


The Many Adventures of Doctor Pines

by impish_nature



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Sick Fic, and them looking after him, pure and utter fluff, stan looking after his family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9402638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Stan’s not good at ignoring people when they are sick, he just has to help, even if he refuses help himself.Luckily for him, he has family who won’t stand for that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this here amazing text post.   
> http://snapback-gravity-falls.tumblr.com/post/155881797426/zfiledh-snapback-gravity-falls
> 
> A present for @snapback-gravity-falls. Good luck friend and enjoy quite possibly an overload of cute (I had to keep stopping while I was writing it.) It’s just pure sap- so I hope it makes up for my recent angst.

Stan didn’t know what it was, but something was wrong that morning.

He bit at the inside of his mouth, fingers tapping as he went about his usual routine and made breakfast for the three of them, humming a disjointed tune to try and ease the worry forming at the back of his skull.

It took quite a while before what felt so off finally clicked.

There were no chirpy sounds coming from the upper rooms for once, no pitter patter of excitable feet rushing down to greet him or shouts from the hallway that they were off on an adventure.

No, the entire house was quiet, as if two young teens weren’t currently inhabiting his attic room and being small beings of chaos at every possible opportunity.

“Grunkle Stan…”

Stan’s ears pricked up at the timid voice, having not heard anything beforehand to announce her arrival. He turned at the shuffling of feet, his small niece looking forlornly up at him and rubbing at her already red eyes while she sniffled. “Hey, sweetie. You alright there?”

“Yeah.” She coughed, a grating sound that made Stan wince, clutching tight to the bright blanket around her neck, other hand squeezing the pillow under her arm just as tightly as if she couldn’t bear to part with them, even to come downstairs and see him. “Dipper caught some weird bug when he was in the forest yesterday.”

“Uh-huh? I think you caught it too.” Stan raised an eyebrow at her as she buried her face in her pillow in response.

“Nu-uh! I don’t get sick, that’s Dipper’s department!”

“Of course, alpha twin and all, am I right?” Stan huffed out a small laugh as Mabel nodded defiantly, crouching in front of her with a groan, his back popping at the movement. “Well, I’ll tell you what, little alpha twin. How about you go back upstairs and I’ll bring up some warm drinks for the pair of you and we’ll both keep your sick brother company for the day? How does that sound?”

“Hmm… A duvet day _does_ sound nice after all the excitement over the last few days.”

“Yeah, let’s put the adventures on hold for one day, I think getting your other Grunkle back is enough excitement for this week.” Stan smiled, ruffling her hair.

Mabel nodded softly, finally letting him put a hand to her forehead as she leaned against his shoulder. “See? M’fine.”

“Of course you are.” Stan humoured her, rubbing at her back. “But how about I get some medicine for Dipper and you take some as well- just so you don’t get sick too?”

“Only if you take some too.”

Stan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing as he encased her in a hug. “Yeah, Ok, I’ll take some now and then I’ll come join you upstairs with warm drinks, alright?”

Mabel pouted, looking up at him with a small disappointed gaze. “I don’t wanna walk back up.”

“Hmm? I thought you weren’t sick?” Stan couldn’t help smirking at her as she huffed, arms out towards him with a whine.

“Maybe a little- but no telling Dipper.” Mabel gave him a stern expression, trying her best to look intimidating. “He’ll only go feeling guilty for dragging me along yesterday.”

“Heh.” Stan ruffled her hair again, picking her up without any more argument. Not that he would have really argued to begin with, it was just better to get to the bottom of things, even if all he really wanted to do was bundle her up and keep her safe. “Your secret is safe with me sweetie, but no lying to me.” He shuffled over to the worktop with her hoisted up in one arm, grabbing at the cupboards until he found the bottle of medicine he was looking for. “How about you have that medicine now so that Dipper doesn’t know you took it?”

“I-” Mabel sneezed, shaking her head before giving him a wobbly smile. “I like your thinking, Grunkle Stan.”

“That’s my girl.” Stan rested his head on hers as he moved about grabbing a spoon. He ended up having to sit her up on the counter, much to her dismay, to actually give her some but she accepted it with good grace in the knowledge that the sooner it was over the quicker she could be having a hug again, a sentiment that Stan wholeheartedly agreed with.

He hoisted her on to one hip once they were finished, flicking on the kettle and grabbing some mugs as he hummed away to the girl settling on his shoulder. He could feel her steadily relaxing, body starting to go limp and drowsy with the pillow crushed between them.

He was just debating how he was going to go about his next task with her latched to him when a voice echoed from the doorway.

“Stan- Oh. Uhm… Is everything alright in here?”

“Dipper’s sick.” Stan grunted out, still rocking Mabel back and forth as he waited for some kind of snarky remark from his twin. They had yet to have a civil conversation since he had come home through the portal but Stan really wasn’t up for an argument when the twins were sick and needed his attention.

“Really? What seems to be the problem-?”

“It’s just a cold, Poindexter, nothing out of the ordinary – as abnormal as that is for us.” Stan huffed as he heard Ford’s mouth snap shut with what he could only assume was annoyance at being interrupted. “Me and Mabel are going to look after him for the day, aren’t we, sweetie?”

Mabel hummed pitifully, still snuggled into him.

“Well, it looks like Dipper’s not the only one that’s sick.”

Stan kept his eyes ahead, putting lemon and honey into the cups just like their Ma used to, even as he heard his brother shuffle up behind him. He felt a hand rest upon his back as the other went up to cup Mabel’s forehead where it leant against Stan’s shoulder.

Stan bit his lip, trying not to smile.

Obviously, they were both at least of the opinion that arguments could wait until the kids were better again.

Still, didn’t stop him trying to push that little bit further, get some kind of _good_ reaction from his brother for once.

“Nah. Alpha twins don’t get sick, it’s just sympathy for their sibling.”

Ford rolled his eyes, a smile quirking on his lips for just a moment. “Now where have I heard that before?”

“You’ve heard it before ‘cause it’s the truth.” Stan puffed up his chest, grinning when Mabel giggled and nodded against his shoulder where she was burying her face. “Now then, you gonna help me keep an eye on these two or are you going to stand there like a lemon?”

Ford blinked, startled by his words. “Oh, right- what do you need me to do?”

Stan gave a grunt of thanks, knowing that if he remarked that Ford was doing as he asked then the entire charade would vanish. He also tried to ignore the smile that he could feel against his shoulder, didn’t want Mabel thinking that getting sick was the best way to get him and his brother talking, now that just wouldn’t do. He glanced down at Mabel with a small raised eyebrow and a conspiratorial smile. “What do you think? Do you trust your nerdy Grunkle who has been out of this dimension for a while to make your drinks or do you want him to give you a hug?”

“Stan, I am perfectly capable of pouring hot water-”

“I haven’t had a hug from Grunkle Ford yet.”

The pair of them went silent, the almost joking sibling bickering sliding to a standstill as Mabel propped herself up in Stan’s arms, eyes on Ford hopefully.

“Oh, well, I mean- I would love to, Mabel.” Ford gave her an awkward smile, arms outstretched towards her in invitation as Stan turned around.

With Mabel turned towards him, arms reaching out dolefully to him, it was only Ford that saw Stan’s sad, forlorn expression as he gave her over to him. His eyes were filled with concern, and arms still vaguely grasping at the air as if he wasn’t quite willing to do what he had just done, as if he couldn’t keep her safe when she wasn’t in his arms.

Ford frowned at the motions, not quite sure what to make of it all.

“Stan? Are you OK?”

“Hmm? Yeah, ‘course I am. Besides, don’t want you adding some weird nerd concoction to this and making things worse.” Stan sniffed gruffly, voice mocking as he turned away from them both. “Now you get her to bed before she does actually get sick and turns the whole alpha twin rule on its head.”

“You’ll be up in a sec, right?”

Stan blinked, turning to his great niece who looked worried that he wouldn’t come up at all now. He tried not to curse, realising that it might look like he was leaving it up to Ford considering they still weren’t really on talking terms and this was the longest they’d stood in a room together without arguing. “Of course, I wouldn’t have given up my hugs if it wasn’t for a good reason, now would I?” He squinted at her, finger pointing. “You owe me another later, considering you cut this one short.”

Mabel giggled, arms clinging tight to Ford’s neck. “Promise!”

“Good, now go on, get upstairs, the pair of you.”

Stan watched them out of the room, smiling softly as Mabel waved over Ford’s shoulder at him before slipping the medicine and a spoon into his pocket and getting the drinks ready as fast as he could.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ford, he just really wanted to check up on Dipper.

He wasn’t really paying attention to where he was going as he traversed the steps, mind already ticking over with questions about Dipper and how to make sure he took his medicine with minimal fuss.

He couldn’t help the snort when he saw Ford suspended in a moment of utter loss, eyes darting between checking on Dipper, who it seemed had yet to surface from under his blanket, and the limpet of a great niece who refused to let go of his neck and left him trapped bent down where he was trying to put her back to bed.

“It’s no use, Ford, you’ll never win.”

He sighed overdramatically, a tweak to his mouth as he let himself be pulled down beside her. “I guess I’ll have to admit defeat.”

“Most sense you’ve made all day.” Stan smirked, unable to resist the approving nod he gave before he went to Dipper.

After all, Ford could have easily untangled himself, really, if he’d wanted to.

Good to know Mabel already had Ford wrapped around her little finger too.

“So how’s my little adventurer today?” Stan put the drinks down on the bedside cabinets before giving the lump that was Dipper a small prod.

The lump moved, two bleary dejected eyes peeking out of the edge of the cocoon.

“Yeesh, that good, huh? Not even gonna pretend.” Stan gave him a sympathetic pout as the boy mumbled something into the fabric. He brushed his hair aside and gave a wince, closing one eye. “Whoa, what did I tell you about playing with fire, kid? You are burning up something fierce.” He tutted, mock scolding him as he played with his hair, happy when it seemed to have the desired effect as the boy leant into the touch, his hand obviously a cool relief.

Dipper tugged the blankets away from his face weakly, still squinting up at Stan. “M’sorry.”

Stan frowned. “Sorry? Sorry for what? Having fun out in the forest yesterday? Not like you got hurt. And besides if you had- not much I can say about being careful, can I? Ehh, I’ve lost count of the amount of silly things I’ve done, you know that.” He scrunched up his face and prodded Dipper’s nose. “You can’t do anything about getting sick, these things happen.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan…”

“You won’t be thanking me in a minute.” Stan tried to grin evilly, the boy’s face growing suspicious at the look. “Cause I’m gonna have to get you to sit up and take some medicine before you go back to sleep. And if you can, maybe, get down some of the drink I brought up for you. You gotta keep your fluids up and all that.”

Dipper whined pitifully at him, tugging the blanket back up over his head and going to roll over, even as Stan put a hand out to stop him.

“Now, Dipper-”

Ford’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click at the warning look Stan gave him.

“Oi, kid, now you’re not gonna get out adventuring again any time soon if you don’t take your medicine.” Stan huffed when Dipper glanced over at Ford once before hiding beneath the blankets again. “What? You think ‘ _The Author’s_ never got sick before? Cause believe me, he was always getting sick when we were kids.”

“Really?”

Stan nodded as Ford rolled his eyes, the boy blearily sitting up to look around Stan at his idol as if he couldn’t quite believe he was human enough to get sick. “Course he did. Always getting into trouble, nose in his book, not really paying attention to where he was going…” He helped prop Dipper up, crouching down beside the bed to get a better leverage. He gave his back a comforting rub before going for the medicine, glad when Ford joined in the conversation to help keep Dipper from trying to curl back up just yet.

“I think you’ll find it was _both_ of us.”

“Pssh. We’ve gone over this already this morning.” Stan gestured between them, eyes still on Dipper as he finally took the medicine. “I’m the _alpha_ twin. We don’t get sick, right, Mabel- attaboy, see? All done.” He ruffled his hair, glad the distraction helped as he smiled and put the warm mug in his hands next. “Now just a few sips of that- just what you can manage, alright?”

Dipper grimaced but took a small sip, face changing when it tasted better than the medicine had before.

“That’s the ticket. Just put my mind at ease that you’ll keep something down, yeah?”

Dipper shivered, clutching the mug to his chest as if he could absorb the heat. Stan clucked sympathetically, eyes going over the boy appraisingly while he tried to keep sipping at the drink and not spill it at all. He slipped a hand beneath the cup as a safety measure before turning to the other two, eyebrow raised. “How’s my sweetie doing? Drink all gone?”

“Mmm.” Mabel nodded, clutching at Ford’s coat as he brought a blanket around her. Ford nodded along with her, putting the cup back on the bedside cabinet with a soft smile as his other hand patted at her back and she tried to shuffle closer into the warmth.

“Grunkle Stan…”

Stan turned quickly to see Dipper’s face contort. “Enough?” He let Dipper give him back the cup with a small jolt of a nod, not quite seeming confident in opening his mouth as he curled back into the warm blankets around him. “Too cold for that, huh?” He gave a soft cheeky grin as Dipper stared dolefully up at him from the cocoon of fabric. “What? You jealous of Mabel getting hugs from the author?”

“Now, Stan-”

“I just want a hug.”

Stan blinked, pausing in his turn. He’d been about to brush off his brother, say he was joking but there were now two very defiant eyes staring back at him from the bundle of blankets as if daring him to say a word about the admission. “That the fever talking?”

Dipper pulled the blankets down just enough to free the rest of his face, a tired smile resting there. “Probably.”

“Well I guess I can’t argue with that.” Stan groaned as he stood back up, cracking his back once before going to sit on the bed. He shuffled around so as not to move the boy and cause more discomfort even if it meant it was quite difficult to get comfortable. Especially when as soon as he got close enough the boy latched on to him, burrowing into his suit jacket to get warm.

“…Yeah, i-it’s definitely the fever.” Came the muffled yawning response at his midriff to a question not even asked.

“I know it is, now you get to sleep so we can get rid of the blasted thing and stop all this sappy stuff.” Stan huffed good-naturedly, hand going up to run through Dipper’s hair soothingly, checking his forehead again for good measure at the same time.

The room went quiet after that, a small hush as Stan let himself be used as a teddy bear and zoned out thinking about how to make the pair eat something substantial later.

Ford smiled as he turned his gaze away from the small girl slowly drifting to sleep beside him. He hummed a tune, hearing a soft tired mumble before her white knuckled grip relaxed and her breathing evened out. He tried not to chuckle at the feeling, eyes going to Stan who seemed to have had even less trouble at getting Dipper to fall back to sleep. If Stan’s worried but endearing smile was anything to go by, the boy had been out as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

He gave a small sigh of relief, glad the pair were resting. There had been a moment downstairs in the kitchen when his mind had raced through magical ailments, a brief moment of panic but Stan had shut it down quickly. This was every day for him, this was the usual hustle and bustle of looking after two kids and Ford couldn’t help but see his brother in a different light as he saw the coaxing and persuasive man who just wanted to make sure his favourite people in the world got better.

It was rather conflicting with the image he had had of his brother and yet strangely wasn’t all at the same time.

“What’s that look all about?”

Ford blinked, not realising that he’d been staring at Stan hard enough to not notice him move. He smiled, unable to resist. “Nothing, just you with these two.”

Stan huffed, looking down at the small boy curled around him, continuing to pet at his hair as he went. His smile turned downtrodden, a look of concern unable to be masked. “I hate seeing them sick, it’s just so _unlike_ them. All quiet and small.” He grumbled again, pulling the blankets up around Dipper’s shoulders. “And there’s nothing I can do, it’s not like I can punch it away like with the zombies or anything. At least I could do _something_ then.”

“Yeah, well, not everything can be punched- wait.” Ford frowned, the amusement at Stan’s simplicity to the situation overruled by the words sinking in. “Did you say ‘zombies’?”

Stan turned back to him blankly before it clicked that Ford hadn’t been there. A wide grin spread across his face, eyes twinkling mischievously. “If you think that’s something, wait until you hear about the pterodactyl.”

“The-” Ford sat up slightly, before Mabel whined at being jostled in her sleep and proceeded to tug at his coat, making him pause.

“Shh, Sixer, you’ll wake her.”

“You can’t just leave it like that, Stan. Where- How-? Tell me more.” Ford hissed, eyes curious and mind spinning.

Stan shrugged, settling down beside Dipper, grin still wide on his face. “Nah, too tired. Maybe next time.”

“ _Stan_.”

He could see his brother laughing more than he could hear it, the shake of his shoulders more than a big enough give away that he found annoying his brother so very rewarding. Ford sighed, shaking his head, unable to stop the chuckle that escaped him. “Fine. But don’t think this is the last you’ll hear of it. Once the kids are feeling better, you have to tell me.”

Stan shrugged. “Alright, Dipper tells it best anyway.” He smiled at the small girl in his brother’s arms, nodding towards her as he did so. “And I’ll bet Mabel’s got photos or drawings in that sketchbook of hers that she’d love to share.”

“Hmm… well if I’m going to hear the story, I guess I want the best version.”

Stan nodded solemnly. “Yup, and you know full well I can’t stick to the facts.”

Ford snorted, unable to resist and then they were laughing, both shushing the other while unable to keep the mirth in themselves. The bubble popped, leaving two small children where adults had been moments before, no longer a heavy atmosphere resting solidly and squarely between them.

“You know when I woke up today, this was not what I expected I’d be doing.”

Ford hummed, staring up at the ceiling as the small girl tightened her grip on his coat again, peaceful and content to stay there for how ever long he was needed.

The moment couldn’t last though.

Ford sighed, the comfortable silence echoing between them. It wouldn’t do, there was still too much they needed to work through. “I’m still angry at you, you know.”

Stan sighed too, a bone weary sound that made Ford regret saying anything in the first place. “Fair. But just so you know- you being angry at me isn’t really high on my priority list at the moment.”

Ford looked over at Stan, watched him feel Dipper’s forehead with a frown before his eyes travelled down to Mabel and saw her small little frown as if her sleep wasn’t as serene as it should be. He found his hand running through her hair without thought, the creases in her forehead vanishing with the movement and he couldn’t stop the small understanding twinge to his expression.

He tugged her close, felt her arms wrap around him in response and couldn’t quite stop the protective lurch that settled in his stomach.

“I guess that’s fair too.”

* * *

“Oi, you- uhh…”

Soos looked down from his perch on the ladder, ignoring how pitching down made him feel slightly nauseous. He gave a grin when he saw his old employee looking at him guiltily, hand gesturing uselessly at his side, the other behind his back. “Soos, Mr Pines, the names Soos.”

“R-Right! Sorry, kid- Soos, old head’s a bit-” Stan tapped at his temple for emphasis, shamefaced and disappointed in himself as he continued to watch him with sharp eyes. “-You know?”

“That’s alright, Mr Pines, you’ll remember soon enough.” Soos turned his head away from him for a second, coughing into his sleeve. “Is- Is there something you needed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, there was. Could you come down here?”

Soos frowned but did as he was asked, shuffling down the steps until he was stood next to Stan waiting for further instructions.

“Take a seat, Soos.”

“Ok…” Soos shrugged, sitting down and making himself comfortable on the sofa next to him. He leant back quickly as Stan bent down in front of him, face close and eyes stern.

“So, kid, why did you come in today?”

“Why- Mr Pines? I work here?”

Stan rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I get that, kid. I meant, why didn’t you phone in sick?” He held a hand up when Soos went to protest. “Come on, Soos, I could hear you coughing all the way through the house. No way you should be here getting your germs everywhere- I don’t want ‘em!”

“S-Sorry, Mr Pines.” Soos winced, glancing at his feet as another cough threatened to hack out of his throat, though he tried to hold it in. Suddenly there was a layer of worry to his thoughts- he didn’t want to get Stan sick. “I knew I had that light to fix, didn’t want to leave you without.”

“Oh, for the love of-” Stan prodded him in the forehead. “That darn light ain’t worth you falling flat on your face cause you’re too sick to work, now is it? That doesn’t help either of us, I can deal without a light.” He stood back up, face thoughtfully again as Soos looked up at him like a dejected puppy. “Now, what are we going to do with you?”

“I’ll just-”

Before he could finish the sentence, something obscured his vision. He fumbled at the material, pulling it back over his head as he realised Stan had thrown a blanket at him.

“Nope, you’re not allowed to make decisions, you make bad ones.” Stan grinned at him victoriously, hand raised in a way that broached no arguments. “Now, there’s no way you’re allowed to drive home in this state and I’ve been told _I’m_ not allowed to drive- something about ‘not remembering how to’ or something.” Stan put air quotes around the words, sighing dramatically before shaking his head and returning to where he was before. “Which means I’m stuck with you. _So_ -” Stan pointed at him commandingly again. “You are going to make yourself comfortable, I’m going to go make you some soup and we’re going to kick whatever this cold is to the curb, how does that sound?”

“Uhh- I mean, I could just go home-”

“What did I say about you making decisions?”

“That I make bad ones?” Soos smiled weakly as Stan nodded, wrapping the blanket tighter around him in a moment of obedience.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you don’t usually make bad ones. All the more reason to get rid of the cold, eh?” Stan winked at him, grinning when the boy laughed, though he couldn’t help but cringe when it turned into another hacking cough. “Ok, let’s get you something to ease that throat of yours.” His face turned commanding again. “Don’t you move, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Stan vanished from Soos’s sight and the boy sat in a daze for a moment before the brightest smile he’d had in a while spread across his face.

He sat himself back, closing his eyes as nostalgia hit him, remembering curling up on this sofa more than once before, a gruff old man scolding him for his antics. He only ever wanted to please him, wanted to show that he was made of stronger stuff but every time he had tried to hide that he felt unwell the man had seemed to know and carted him off to the sofa to rest up until he could take him home.

Though Soos was always sure there was more to it than that, was sure that the man had checked up on him time and time again between his tours.

_“Looked after you? Kid, you must have had a fever dream. I told you to stay on the sofa and took you back home at the end of the day, what more do you want from me?”_

He chuckled to himself at the indignant voice, the shifting eyes and pointing cane that told him to get back to work before he changed his mind about him and had him scuttling off to do his job. But even then Soos had known the truth, been able to see the kindness and relief the man tried to hide when he saw him back on his feet and none the worse for wear.

He coughed, rubbing at his chest before tightening the blanket around him, taking a deep breath of the smell he had grown accustomed to over the years.

Even though he felt so out of sorts, he couldn’t seem to get the smile off his face.

“Soos?”

Footsteps had him opening his eyes again, looking over to the doorway where a perplexed Ford stood.

“It was Soos, right? Why do you look so happy?” Ford winced at his own wording as the man looked up at him befuddled. “I mean, I heard you from the other room and- well, not many people seem so upbeat when full of cold.”

Soos hummed, wrapping the blanket that had been draped around him tighter. “Mr Pines is still Mr Pines, memories or not.”

Ford blinked, staring down at him for a few moments before smiling softly himself, though it was a lot sadder than Soos’s bright beam. “That so?”

“Yeah, he never has been able to just watch someone be sick without fidgeting to help.”

Ford sat down on the edge of the sofa, humming as his mind went to years ago, when a small boy ran around the house with a fretful face and grabbed anything his mother asked for. “Heh. Some things never change.”

Soos nodded fervently, sitting up quickly. “Yeah, see? Mr Pines will always be-”

“OK! Here we go, one bowl of soup- oh, F-Ford? …Right? Everything alright?”

Ford glanced up as Stan came back in, small tray set with a bowl of soup and a glass of water, his face set in a mixture of nonchalance and concern. “Yeah, everything is perfectly fine.”

“You sure? Cause I don’t remember saying you could sit up, kid.” Stan settled a heavy gaze on Soos until he grinned and put his hands up in defeat, slowly settling back down into the cushions of the sofa.

Ford chuckled, shuffling out of the room. “I think I should get out of the way before I get you in more trouble.”

“Damn right, I don’t want to be spending all my time looking after you, kid. So you better get better quick.” Stan sniffed, trying to school his face into gruff indifference as he stood back up.

Neither of them bought the act for a second even as Stan tried to keep it up and left Soos to it not long after.

It was only later that Ford caught a glimpse of Stan, face open and genuine as he ruffled Soos’s hair and checked his temperature when he was sure the young man was fast asleep.

* * *

“Grunkle Stan! Did you catch that cold Wendy had?”

“What? No of course I didn’t.” Stan grunted, rubbing at his face quickly before turning to the kids with a grin. “See? Fit as a fiddle! Which is surprising in itself considering-” He raised a finger to his temple, grin widening at the aghast looks. “What? Too soon-” A sneeze ripped out of him before he could finish the question, Mabel giving a small upset noise in reply.

“Grunkle Stan, you’re sick!”

“Stan?”

Stan sighed as his brother’s head poked through the kitchen doorway, eyebrow raised. “I’m not sick! I just sneezed, that’s all! Melodramatic family-” Another sneeze stopped him again, silence falling awkwardly afterwards. He rolled his eyes as the three looked at one another, clearly doubtful expressions on their faces that got his hackles up. “What? It’s nothing.”

“Yeah but what if it gets worse?”

Stan walked passed them, skirting the hand that came up to stop him and check him over. Everything was _fine_ , there was nothing wrong with him- he’d definitely had worse. Besides something was making him feel all kinds of weird with the looks they were giving him.

He heard Ford’s sigh, his shoulders raising defensively around his ears as he pouted and sniffed. “Ford, don’t gimme that look.”

“What look?”

“I dunno, your face in general really when it’s directed at me.” Stan turned back to him with a cheeky grin, not able to resist the small thrill of glee that went through him when Ford couldn’t mask his frustration. The happiness died quickly though when his stomach churned nauseously and his small amount of breakfast threatened to re-emerge.

He grimaced distastefully at the sensation.

Ok, so maybe he _wasn’t_ as OK as he had thought- but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with!

He was _supposed_ to look after everyone else, not the other way around!

“Stanley, are you OK?”

Stan shook his head, trying to dispel the worry in his brother’s voice and realising too late that the movement was a mistake. He gave a wobbly smile. “‘Course I am, now will you lot stop asking? I thought we were done with all this faffing now most of my memories were back?”

“Stan, your body has been busy trying to rectify the damage the memory gun has done. You’ve needed to sleep a lot after large memories returned, it’s only natural that your body might be more susceptible to sickness-”

“Stop it, this ain’t some experiment of yours.” Stan’s grimace turned sour even as he tried to slip the mask back on and smile through the discomfort, his head feeling more and more solid with every moment. “Stop speculating or whatever it is you’re doing, you’re gonna make me fall asleep where I stand!”

The three of them continued to follow him as he walked into the living room and he couldn’t help but bite the inside of his cheek in irritation. He just wanted a few moments alone, just enough time to get his head back on straight and everything would be fine. He just needed a second to perfect pretending that he was completely alright and they wouldn’t even notice the difference.

Only thing was, they seemed to be refusing to give him that much leeway, a fussy hovering habit of theirs that had started, as far as he could tell, when his memory had been wiped.

Not that he had minded before, the attention was kind of nice.

It just felt weird now though, now that he remembered everything.

He looked after the kids, not the other way around, it didn’t work like that.

“Look, I’m fine, now can I go-” Stan turned back to them with a gruff grumble, stuttering as he realised Mabel was closer to him than he’d expected, arms outstretched as if to grab his leg.

He backpedalled quickly, arms raised hastily in front of him.

“Whoa, no. Sorry sweetie, don’t want you getting sick.”

“But I thought you weren’t sick?”

There was a beat of silence as Mabel stood smugly before him, arms outstretched, a very large test sitting slap bang between them. He narrowed his eyes at her, scrutinising and suspicious of her actions. He couldn’t admit he was sick but if he said he was fine again he risked the chance of giving it to her when she went in for the hug.

“…Did you just con me?”

“I dunno, _are_ you sick?”

“…You have gotten far too good at that.”

She shrugged innocently. “Well, I did learn from the best.”

“And I regret every lesson.”

“I don’t!” Mabel jumped forward, latching on to him and ignoring his protests. “And now you’ve admitted you’re sick so you _have_ to let us help _and_ I’ve already grabbed you for one hug so if I’m getting the germs I’m getting them so you can’t make me go anywhere!”

“I didn’t say a word about being sick, there’s no court anywhere that would take that as proof! Have I taught you nothing, sweetie?” Stan huffed good-humouredly, giving in and picking her up, bad back be damned. He didn’t feel well and his great niece was offering hugs, hands clinging straight around his neck when he moved her.

He might not admit to being sick but he sure wasn’t going to give up that opportunity.

“Grunkle Stan, why won’t you let us look after you?”

He sighed, bone weary and frankly too tired to really argue, at the small boy staring at him defiantly. “Kid, I’m fine. Honestly.”

Dipper’s face seemed to waver, perplexed. There was obviously a genuine lilt to Stan’s voice but he could see from his pasty complexion that he was lying. “But you’re _not_ though.”

Stan barked out a laugh that Ford couldn’t help frowning at. “Kid, you think this is bad? It’s just a little cold, it’ll be gone by tomorrow. Believe me I’ve had a lot worse, like the time…” He snapped his mouth shut of his own accord that time, realising perhaps those stories were best left well alone, especially in front of the kids. “What I mean is, I’ve dealt with a lot worse and all on my own. I can look after myself.”

“But you don’t have to. Not anymore.” Mabel whispered in his ear, the soft unhappy voice breaking his heart as he looked down at her.

“Grunkle Stan, if you don’t look after it now it will become a worse one, that’s what you always told us, right?”

“Yeah, but-” Stan huffed, eyebrows furrowing as he looked between the kids. It wasn’t like this was a big thing, why were they getting so upset about it?

It was just a cold.

“Why?” _Why are you doing this?_ The question never came out but it didn’t seem to matter, the little ones understanding without him needing to.

“Why? ‘Cause we want to.” Mabel’s hands grew impossibly tighter around his neck and his resolve crumbled.

He sniffled, eyes seeking Ford’s out, hoping that he’d understand and just let him get on with it but all he got was a soft smile, a coaxing nod of his head towards the kids.

“How about you get settled and I’ll go make a nice warm drink for everyone?”

“Ford-”

“Stop being a grouchy old man and let the kids fuss over you already. You’re sick, we want to help. Now sit down and let us look after you.”

Stan sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly! You guys are spoiling me! I’m gonna end up with a cold in the future and expect this treatment every time, then what will I do?”

“You’ll call us!” Mabel sat back in his arms, beaming at him.

“Does that mean you’ll sit down and rest now?”

Stan huffed, sitting down in the seat Dipper was staring at pointedly, Mabel sidling out of his grip to race off across the room for blankets and pillows that were apparently now desperately needed. “Yeah, yeah, do your worst, kid.”

Dipper frowned at him, befuddlement clear on his face. “My worst? We’re looking after you?”

Ford laughed as he left the room, peeking around the corner as Stan scowled and crossed his arms. “Oh, Dipper, what Stan didn’t tell you when you were sick was just how difficult it was for Ma to get _him_ to take medicine.”

“I wasn’t sick! You were, I was just being sympathetic. I didn’t need to take any damn medicine.”

“Uh-huh? Prove it.”

Stan blinked dazedly, his face perturbed by Ford’s evil grin. “Wait, what?”

“Well, you’ve admitted your sick this time, so I’m sure you’ll let Dipper give you some medicine without any fuss, right?”

Stan opened his mouth to protest before he saw the boy’s disbelieving face at his antics. He scrunched up his nose in disgust, leaning back in the chair with a grunt. “Fine! It’s not exactly a bad cold but sure if it’ll make you lot feel better I’ll take some medicine.”

Dipper beamed proudly, darting off out of the room to get what he needed. Ford stayed put, still slightly worried that Stan would try and run off to his room in a grumble that he could look after himself.

Instead all he got was a huff as Stan settled into the chair, promptly giving in to their whims as he sneezed again, the head cold coming in thick and fast now he seemed less inclined to hide how he was feeling.

Didn’t stop him scowling at his brother though.

“…I hate you so much right now.”

Ford hummed. “No, you don’t. Besides, not going to get you out of taking some.”

Stan groaned again, hitting his head against the back of the sofa. “But it tastes disgusting!”

“Suck it up.” Ford smiled dangerously when Stan glared up at him. “We’re looking after you whether you like it or not.”

“… Your bedside manner is atrocious, _Doctor_.”

“I’m sure the kids more than make up for it.”

Stan chuckled as Ford gave him a pat on the arm, Mabel bounding in the room to take his place. “Yeah, I guess they do.”

* * *

It was dark when Ford woke up, utterly confused as to what had roused him from his slumber.

He stretched slightly, wincing at the odd position he had curled up in on the sofa, and patting Dipper in way of apology as his movements made him complain in his sleep. He smiled softly, squinting in the gloom as he yawned. For such a restful day he was still so tired, happy and warm in his spot. He curled inwards again, eyes closing slowly.

The day had been spent dragging every single blanket and pillow they could find into the living room and piling them around Stan no matter how much he complained. Then they had burrowed into the nest, turned on the tv and covered any available flat surfaces nearby with drinks, painkillers and tissues so that none of them had to move for as long as possible even with Stan’s protests that grew weaker and weaker by the second.

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, Mabel making plane noises with a spoonful of soup for Stan slipping into his sleepy mind. The embarrassment had been clear on his face and soon he was sulkily eating without complaint in fear she’d do it again, though as with all of Mabel’s antics, he was far too endeared to be really put out by it.

Stan wouldn’t be living that one down for a while, Ford would make sure of that.

And Dipper had been the perfect little schedule keeper, he had made sure Stan had lunch and kept drinking, even going as far as to check the time for when he could next have medicine regardless of whether Stan said he was feeling better or not. He would not be deterred and Stan found himself going silent as the boy glared at him and pushed whatever he had in his hands at him to take.

“Just to put us at ease, OK?”

Ford’s smile grew bigger as he thought of it, using Stan’s words against him was a cruel tactic and one he very enthusiastically endorsed if it got his brother letting them look after him, even if just for an afternoon.

He sighed softly, sinking ever closer to sleep again.

A small sound dragged him back out again, a confused frown worming across his face as he wondered if that was what woke him in the first place.

It came again a second later, a cut off sound, a sharp intake of breath, muffled behind something.

He blinked himself awake, feeling Stan shake beside him. “S-Stan? Are you OK? Do you need something?”

“Ah- no, bro, I’m fine, go- go back to sleep.”

“Stan.” Ford shook his head, pulling himself with a struggle out of his warm stupor. Stan sounded terrible, he didn’t even seem able to stop sniffling now unlike earlier. He pushed at the arm that tried to grip him tighter in position and sat up. “That head cold sounds even worse now.”

“I-I’m fine. Seriously, Poindexter, I-”

Stan’s voice broke and Ford’s eyes widened. He was suddenly wide awake as the tissues he’d been grabbing fell out of his grasp and into the sea of blankets. “Stan, are you crying?”

“N- _no_. Of course not, I’m full of cold remember? That’s all.” Stan’s eyes were waspish as Ford squinted at him, willing him to leave it be even as he knew he must look blotchy and awful.

“You really are a terrible liar, how on earth did you trick Bill?”

Stan snorted, grabbing the tissues from between them. “Like he was hard to trick at all. I mean come on- I’ve had a harder time tricking tourists vs that small fry.”

Ford hummed approvingly, the victory still fresh in him, glad that they could joke about him now without worry. “Hmm, true, very true. But that doesn’t change what’s happening now.” His smile faltered, worry evident and making Stan’s smile drop too. “What’s up, Stan?”

Stan shook his head, gripping tightly at the box in his hands, worrying it between his fingers.

“Is it a memory?” Ford shuffled as close as he could, trying to check Stan’s eyes and make him return his gaze at the same time. “Did you remember a bad one-” Another head shake. “A good one then? But still a tiring one none the less- No?” Stan’s head continued to shake and then his hands followed suit and the protective instinct in Ford flared up warm and unceasing until he bundled up his brother into a big hug. “What is it, Stan? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“I’m _fine_.”

“Uh-huh, sure. And I’m a monkeys uncle- Don’t.” Ford frowned as Stan smirked weakly up at him. “Yeah, I thought some smart-alec story was going to come back to bite me in that phrase.”

“Your fault, not mine.”

Ford shook his head, huffing out a small laugh though he couldn’t smile. “OK, I’ll give- I won’t push you to talk about whatever it is, but I’m here if you need to, OK? Stan, it’s no good bottling everything up and thinking you can do everything on your own. We- we just want to help, like you always look out for us.”

“Didn’t do a very good job of that, did I?”

“You did your best. You got me home and then not only that, you protected us all from Bill. I think you did more than enough, don’t you?” Ford raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a nudge. “Besides, saving the world or not- these kids aren’t going to let you do that anymore. Nope, no, sullen old man routine for you, they’re going to look after you whether you like it or not.”

“Why though?”

“I thought you remembered the summer?” Ford pulled further away, his heart beating fast at the thought that there was more to this than he had first anticipated.

Stan didn’t let him get very far.

“No, that’s not what I meant- yes, yeah I remember the summer but I just- I didn’t think I had…”

“They care about you, Stan. We all do.”

Stan’s eyes seemed the water again and he turned away from his brother with a pronounced sniff. “Stop it, nerd.”

“It’s just the truth.”

They were quiet for a bit as Stan sank back into the cushions, Ford settling next to him, placated that even if not everything was resolved, he had at least helped his brother feel better.

He didn’t actually expect Stan to tell him what was wrong.

“I didn’t remember anything, Sixer.”

“Hmm? Yeah, you said.”

“No, I mean I _didn’t_ remember anything.”

Ford’s eyes popped open again as Stan’s shakes got worse again. He rested a hand on his upper arm, running it up and down as he shushed him quietly. “Hey, it’s OK, everything is fine.”

“It’s not though, is it? I- forty years, I remember the bad memories, _heh_ \- I remember the good ones too but- nowhere… nowhere in forty years have I ever been looked after like-” His head flopped to the side, towards Ford this time, his expression open and vulnerable as his voice choked up. He gave a wobbly smile, trying to negate what he probably thought were childish emotions as he scrubbed at his eyes. “Silly really but, I just- there’s nothing to draw on, nothing like this having happened before. When we were kids, maybe, but I already remembered all that so… I guess I was just hoping there was some nice memory in amongst the other times.”

_“What I mean is, I’ve dealt with a lot worse and all on my own. I can look after myself.”_

Ford shuddered, realising what Stan had meant earlier that day. He’d dealt with a lot of hardships and not once had he had a shoulder to cry on like he did now, or multiple people wanting to care for him so openly, so genuinely.

Not in a long time.

And Ford’s heart broke, know that so much had happened to both of them and that Stan just couldn’t comprehend them wanting to help him now.

He sat up straight, making sure Stan was staring him in the eye as he spoke, the words coming easier than he had expected, worried to say the wrong thing yet feeling like he knew exactly what Stan needed to hear.

“Stan, I can’t… I can’t do anything about the past. Neither of us can, but from now on, you won’t have to deal with things alone. And neither will I.” He kept his hand stroking calming circles as Stan’s shakes eased. “We’ve got each other again now, and we’ll tackle things together from now on. You’ve just got to let us in.” He gave a sad smile, his voice hopeful. “And perhaps that way…we can make more good memories to counteract the bad ones.”

Stan’s face scrunched up as he tried not to cry more, nodding his head with him. “Yeah… yeah that sounds pretty great, Sixer.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m gonna make sure you never have to worry about being left alone again. And I’m pretty sure I’ve got two of the best who will be happy to assist in that.”

“Heh, I think you’ll be assisting them more than them assisting you- did you see how Dipper took charge today?”

“I did, both of them have got you wrapped around their little fingers.” Ford grinned as Stan gave a warble of a laugh, nodding his head with a shrug. There was no use denying that, that was for sure.

“Fair. Very fair, these two aren’t gonna let me go anywhere it seems until they are satisfied I’m fit as a fiddle.”

“Nope.” Ford popped the ‘p’ with a wry grin, until unable to resist he tugged Stan into a warm hug. “Come here, Knucklehead.”

“Like I had a choice.”

“True, hugs are mandatory. I even hear they’re good for colds. I learnt that from Mabel.”

“Of course you did.”

The pair hushed abruptly, a small body shifting at their conversation and both of them froze in a panic, wondering just how loud they’d been talking.

“Grunkle Stan? What’s wrong?”

Stan hissed out a breath at the small drowsy voice, running a hand through her hair quickly and tugging up the blankets around her shoulders. “Hey there. It’s nothing, sweetie, go back to sleep. Me and Ford were just talking about how lucky I am to have the best doctors in the world looking after me.”

“That’s not true.” Mabel frowned, rubbing at her eye before snuggling back into his side again. “That’s-” A yawn stopped her for a second, her next words coming out as a sleep filled mumble. “-That title’s gotta go to you. You’re the best, Grunkle Stan…”

Ford couldn’t help but laugh as Stan’s lip wobbled again, his eyes going to the ceiling to stop any wayward tears as he pulled both kids even closer to him. He wrapped his arm around Stan, pushing his head onto his shoulder.

“See, you knucklehead? Now get better already so we can make some more good memories together.”

Stan sniffled, a small choked off noise coming out before he could compose himself. He closed his eyes, smiling into Ford’s coat.

“Pfft. You’re not gonna beat this one for a long time.”

* * *

“What on Earth are you doing out of bed, Sixer?”

Ford jokingly winced at the scolding tone floating up from the boat deck, he’d just meant to slip out for a moment, the cabin feeling far too hot as he rubbed a hand through sweat slicked hair with a grimace. “I just wanted a breath of fresh air, Stan.” He didn’t tack on the slight regret at all as the world span a little and the small walk from the bed to the deck had sapped him of what energy he’d slowly been recuperating.

“Uh-huh?” Stan raised an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms in front of him as he scrutinised his brother.

A wind blew off the sea and Ford couldn’t help shuddering, goose bumps flaring across his arms as the heated flush he had felt only moments before shifted into cold shivers.

“Get back to bed, nerd. I’m perfectly capable of looking after this ship and you on my own.”

“I never said you couldn’t!”

“Good, then there’s no reason for you to not go back to bed, is there?”

Ford sighed, smiling softly as he saluted his brother, getting a small scoff in return for his actions. “Alright, Doctor Pines, I’ll get back to bed.”

Stan shook his head at him, shooing him off with a gesture, though his eyebrows furrowed at his words. “Doctor Pines? Surely that’s you, Mr 12 PhDs?”

“I mean, _technically_ , yes but…” Ford smile turned cheeky, a bright grin taking over his face as Stan stepped towards him, hand gently pushing him back into the cabin. “Mabel called you Doctor when she was sick, I didn’t have the heart to take the nickname when it suited you better.”

Stan huffed, a gruff sound even as his hand paused at Ford’s shoulder before retracting back to scratch at his face, obviously embarrassed and flustered by the words and the knowing grin plastered across his brother’s face.

Ford chuckled at the soft little smile that Stan was trying to hide, obviously thinking of their niblings and their antics. “You’re a big softy, you know that?”

Stan scowled, coughing awkwardly before pointing behind Ford, turning him around with his other hand to get the conversation back on track. “Shut it, Poindexter and get back to bed!”

“Yes, Doctor Pines!”

“Quit it!”

**Author's Note:**

> A few scenes cause I just couldn’t decide on the best one!! They were all so good ;A; Also I am super super out of it and happy now after writing this so win win XD 
> 
> The Many adventures of Doctor Pines ♥ - or ‘the times Stan looked after them and the one time they returned the favour’ ♥  
> …sleep now.


End file.
